26. The Illusion of Imperfection

G-d has to go out of His way to create a world with deficiencies.

In order to understand this, one must realize that true perfection is G-d's essence. Every [deficiency] is merely the absence of His good and the concealment of His presence. The closeness of G-d and illumination of His presence is therefore the root and cause of every perfection that exists.

The concealment of His presence, on the other hand, is the root and cause of every fault, the degree of deficiency depending on the degree of concealment.

Here the Ramchal is briefly addressing a question that he will examine more deeply in Chapter 5: the idea of deficiency. We're not dealing with the question of why deficiency exists. We already know, on a basic level, that the purpose of life – mastering pleasure through free will – cannot exist if there are no options in this world to choose from. But how can a perfect G-d create imperfection?

In this paragraph, the Ramchal defines deficiency as "the absence of His good and the concealment of His presence." In other words, G-d doesn't create a reality called deficiency. Deficiency is really a non-existence. It's a shadow. G-d's nature is such that inherent in creation is perfection. G-d has to "go out of His way," so to speak, to create an imperfect world with deficiencies. It's like a perfect piano player, whose perfect talent just flows naturally from his fingertips, holding himself back to allow for imperfect music.

In this case, though, the analogy is more subtle. And that's because these deficiencies seem, in our world, to be actual realities. It's more than just a mirage; a mirage is a distortion of sand that appears as water – but at least it's a distortion of some reality. Deficiency, on the other hand, is a non-existence. It's looking at a hole and thinking of it as a tangible thing. It's grasping at nothing.

It is perhaps for this reason that when we pursue things that are unhealthy – mentally or ethically – we often describe the resulting feeling as "emptiness." We have a fantasy in our minds that cheating to get ahead, or acting on an unhealthy addiction or impulse, will give us satisfaction. It never does. The "high" is temporary and the "low" puts us further back, because not only did the high not last, moreover it was a vain pursuit. It was either a waste of time, putting us right back where we started, or worse, it damaged our self-esteem, strengthened an addiction, or engendered greater frustration and a sense of unfulfillment.

The Maharal, in a number of his writings, uses this idea to describe the afterlife. While there are Jewish sources that metaphorically describe the afterlife as shame, or a burning pain, other sources describe it simply as "a feeling of emptiness and lack." For someone who spends a lifetime relishing in the deficiencies, there are enough opportunities to get distracted from the lows and keep us focusing on the next high. But after a lifetime of pursuing these black holes, what is a person left with? When they move to the afterlife and experience their spiritual nature, they'll see the reality of what they failed to accomplish in this world. And they'll be stuck spending eternity with a huge mountain of nothingness.

Tough Decisions

The Ramchal explains that this setup of perfection and deficiency operates with "the degree of deficiency depending on the degree of concealment." In other words, few things in this world are truly black and white. True, certain acts are utterly good and holy, and a few are absolutely evil and deficient. But most real decisions that we make in life, and most options that we find G-d presenting us with, are not that clear.

Of course, this is part of the plan to allow us to have free will. Giving money to a needy person is generally the right thing to do. What about if he's a drug addict just using the money for the next fix? What if he could be working for a living but he finds it easier just to beg others to support him? What if I give him the money but at the same time make him feel bad for asking for it? Is it better not to give?

We know that exercise is important for a healthy, balanced life. Is that value an absolute? Should exercise take priority over social obligations? Spiritual needs? Is there such a thing as too much of a good thing?

So we see that one of the ways that free will comes into play in our world is by sorting out the confusions. The world is full of these tools to gain perfection and hopefully avoid the black holes of deficiency. But there are many subtleties that we need to be able to discern. It's all part of the process of becoming, in the Ramchal's words, the "master" of our own good.

Completely Attached

Now, the Ramchal summarizes everything said until now:

This creature then stands balanced between perfection and deficiency, which in turn are the result of this illumination or deficiency. When he grasps the elements of perfection and makes them his inner gains, he actually grasps Him [G-d], as He is their Root and Source. The more elements of perfection he gains, the greater becomes his grasp and bond of closeness to Him.

Finally, as he attains the goal of earning perfection, he thereby attains the goal of an ultimate grasp and bond of perfection to Him, and he thus becomes attached to Him, deriving both pleasure and perfection from His own goodness, while he is himself the master of his own good and perfection.

One idea here may seem a bit perplexing: "...he thereby attains the goal of an ultimate grasp and bond of perfection to Him, and he thus becomes attached to Him." This seems to imply that a person can choose good, so consistently, that he actually becomes completely attached to G-d. It seems to ignore the fact that in this world, there seems to always be a struggle to connect, and necessarily so. If a person gets so attached to G-d in this world that they have "an ultimate grasp and bond of perfection to Him," that would seem to negate any free will.

Answering this question requires understanding the Ramchal's approach to death and the afterlife, which is something he will deal with at length in Chapter 4. Suffice for now to say that the picture the Ramchal is presenting us is not life as we experience it – given the nature of man, the dynamics of free will, and the body and soul. All these topics, coming up soon...

What do we mean by saying "deficiency is a non-existence"?

Give an example of the emptiness we feel when "choosing deficiency" in our own lives.

How is the Ramchal's picture of deveikut (spiritual attachment to G-d) the polar opposite of the Eastern conception of removing attachment to the material in order to access the spiritual?

Why does evil exist in the world?

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About the Author

Rabbi Moshe Zeldman performed undergraduate work in Artificial Intelligence and Philosophy at the University of Toronto, and has rabbinic ordination from Aish HaTorah. He lectures on a wide variety of topics at Aish HaTorah in Jerusalem, and to audiences around the world. He is also involved with research into hidden codes in the Torah. He resides in Jerusalem with his wife and their five children.

I just got married and have an important question: Can we eat rice on Passover? My wife grew up eating it, and I did not. Is this just a matter of family tradition?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

The Torah instructs a Jew not to eat (or even possess) chametz all seven days of Passover (Exodus 13:3). "Chametz" is defined as any of the five grains (wheat, spelt, barley, oats, and rye) that came into contact with water for more than 18 minutes. Chametz is a serious Torah prohibition, and for that reason we take extra protective measures on Passover to prevent any mistakes.

Hence the category of food called "kitniyot" (sometimes referred to generically as "legumes"). This includes rice, corn, soy beans, string beans, peas, lentils, peanuts, mustard, sesame seeds and poppy seeds. Even though kitniyot cannot technically become chametz, Ashkenazi Jews do not eat them on Passover. Why?

Products of kitniyot often appear like chametz products. For example, it can be hard to distinguish between rice flour (kitniyot) and wheat flour (chametz). Also, chametz grains may become inadvertently mixed together with kitniyot. Therefore, to prevent confusion, all kitniyot were prohibited.

In Jewish law, there is one important distinction between chametz and kitniyot. During Passover, it is forbidden to even have chametz in one's possession (hence the custom of "selling chametz"). Whereas it is permitted to own kitniyot during Passover and even to use it - not for eating - but for things like baby powder which contains cornstarch. Similarly, someone who is sick is allowed to take medicine containing kitniyot.

What about derivatives of kitniyot - e.g. corn oil, peanut oil, etc? This is a difference of opinion. Many will use kitniyot-based oils on Passover, while others are strict and only use olive or walnut oil.

Finally, there is one product called "quinoa" (pronounced "ken-wah" or "kin-o-ah") that is permitted on Passover even for Ashkenazim. Although it resembles a grain, it is technically a grass, and was never included in the prohibition against kitniyot. It is prepared like rice and has a very high protein content. (It's excellent in "cholent" stew!) In the United States and elsewhere, mainstream kosher supervision agencies certify it "Kosher for Passover" -- look for the label.

Interestingly, the Sefardi Jewish community does not have a prohibition against kitniyot. This creates the strange situation, for example, where one family could be eating rice on Passover - when their neighbors will not. So am I going to guess here that you are Ashkenazi and your wife is Sefardi. Am I right?

Yahrtzeit of Rabbi Moses ben Nachman (1194-1270), known as Nachmanides, and by the acronym of his name, Ramban. Born in Spain, he was a physician by trade, but was best-known for authoring brilliant commentaries on the Bible, Talmud, and philosophy. In 1263, King James of Spain authorized a disputation (religious debate) between Nachmanides and a Jewish convert to Christianity, Pablo Christiani. Nachmanides reluctantly agreed to take part, only after being assured by the king that he would have full freedom of expression. Nachmanides won the debate, which earned the king's respect and a prize of 300 gold coins. But this incensed the Church: Nachmanides was charged with blasphemy and he was forced to flee Spain. So at age 72, Nachmanides moved to Jerusalem. He was struck by the desolation in the Holy City -- there were so few Jews that he could not even find a minyan to pray. Nachmanides immediately set about rebuilding the Jewish community. The Ramban Synagogue stands today in Jerusalem's Old City, a living testimony to his efforts.

It's easy to be intimidated by mean people. See through their mask. Underneath is an insecure and unhappy person. They are alienated from others because they are alienated from themselves.

Have compassion for them. Not pity, not condemning, not fear, but compassion. Feel for their suffering. Identify with their core humanity. You might be able to influence them for the good. You might not. Either way your compassion frees you from their destructiveness. And if you would like to help them change, compassion gives you a chance to succeed.

It is the nature of a person to be influenced by his fellows and comrades (Rambam, Hil. De'os 6:1).

We can never escape the influence of our environment. Our life-style impacts upon us and, as if by osmosis, penetrates our skin and becomes part of us.

Our environment today is thoroughly computerized. Computer intelligence is no longer a science-fiction fantasy, but an everyday occurrence. Some computers can even carry out complete interviews. The computer asks questions, receives answers, interprets these answers, and uses its newly acquired information to ask new questions.

Still, while computers may be able to think, they cannot feel. The uniqueness of human beings is therefore no longer in their intellect, but in their emotions.

We must be extremely careful not to allow ourselves to become human computers that are devoid of feelings. Our culture is in danger of losing this essential aspect of humanity, remaining only with intellect. Because we communicate so much with unfeeling computers, we are in danger of becoming disconnected from our own feelings and oblivious to the feelings of others.

As we check in at our jobs, and the computer on our desk greets us with, "Good morning, Mr. Smith. Today is Wednesday, and here is the agenda for today," let us remember that this machine may indeed be brilliant, but it cannot laugh or cry. It cannot be happy if we succeed, or sad if we fail.

Today I shall...

try to remain a human being in every way - by keeping in touch with my own feelings and being sensitive to the feelings of others.

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